Of Love and War: Us Against the World

Casualty

Had Aayla been among the dead? She couldn't afford to hope for her survival, it was far more likely she'd been killed, anyway. Zelina had to assume everyone had been killed, other than those she knew had survived. Which meant somewhere in the galaxy her second master had died, probably alone, gunned down by her own men...

Force...no...

Ahsoka.

Now the tears blurred her vision, arms wrapped tightly around herself as she felt her body begin to tremble as the waves of grief started to come fast and hard, smashing against her and quickly submerging her in the reality she'd tried desperately not to be dragged into.

Ahsoka was dead, too, wasn't she? She would have dodged this catastrophe so easily if she hadn't come back...but she'd come back to help with Maul on Mandalore, she'd been right in the middle of some of the most intense fighting, right on the front lines when it all happened. Which meant Ahsoka met the same fate as the rest of the Order.

Unless...

No...no, she couldn't afford to hope. As much as she wanted to, if she hoped certain people had survived, then if it was ever confirmed they had died it would break her anew. No, she had to accept them all as dead, now.

But she didn't want to. She shouldn't have to. None of this should have happened in the first place. And it wouldn't have happened if Anakin hadn't been friends with the wrong person, if he'd trusted her instincts about Palpatine.

"Damn you, Anakin," she whispered hoarsely, but as soon as the words tumbled past her lips, she revoked them in her heart.

No, she didn't mean that. She didn't want that. She wanted Anakin back, that was what she really wanted. Besides, it wasn't Anakin's fault-he'd been a victim, too. Palpatine had taken everything from Anakin. And Anakin had still tried to do the right thing in the end.

A sharp sob burst out of Zelina as she sank to her knees in the sand, tears burning her eyes. It had been her responsibility to look out for Anakin. If anyone had died that night to save someone, it should have been her life sacrificed for him, not the other way around. He shouldn't have died. His children shouldn't have been orphaned moments after being born. Padmé shouldn't have been caught in the cross-hairs.

She'd made so many promises to protect Anakin and his family, and she'd failed half of them with both Anakin's and Padmé's death.

And a part of her had died with them.

Let it out.

She'd never really let go of her emotions entirely before, not to this magnitude, and she struggled with the task of simply letting it all out. Images flickered in her mind of the carnage at the Temple, of the lights in the galaxy flickering out one by one in rapid succession by the blade and blasters of people she'd considered friends and companions. The magnitude of the slaughter began to hit her one at a time, as if she was still there, as if she was still experiencing it anew.

And just like that, the lock clicked, and the floodgates opened.

Zelina shuddered from the force of what welled up inside of her, leaning forward as it punched mercilessly out of her. With the raw emotion came a scream like what she'd released when she'd felt Anakin die. It flew into the air before her, swallowed up by Tatooine's sheer sandy void so no one but her would ever hear the true extent of her grief. Her scream stripped her throat with its sheer volume, and she found her hands sinking into the sand below her as she leaned into them before they curled into fists buried in the ground.

She sucked in a breath, the silence deafening as she briefly paused long enough for air before she released another scream, allowing the images of the bodies strewn throughout the temple to mercilessly assault her rather than suppressing them. Her scream turned into an anguished wail as she remembered realizing it was Anakin leading the massacre, as he nearly executed her despite all they'd been through.

And finally her heartbroken wails for his death. For Padmé's death. For Luke and Leia's orphaning. For the loss of all she'd known. For the return to this Force forsaken planet because it was the best place she could think of to disappear.

She let her screaming wails dwindle to cries, to moans, to sobs, and finally to nothing. By the time she'd let it all out, she was lying in the sand, feeling completely drained and hollow, with no motivation to move anytime soon.

But no...she had to move. She had to keep moving, to start building a life for Luke. She was his provider now, and she couldn't provide if she didn't get up off of the ground and keep moving.

She still didn't move. So, to motivate herself, Zelina forced herself to shove the past into some dark corner of herself for the time being, and focused on plans for the future.

She needed to protect him, and the lightsabers would be a giveaway, so she needed blasters. She needed clothes for Luke, food, other essentials. They needed a roof over her head, so she'd have to be on the lookout for property. Most of all she needed a job to make money to support them. Perhaps she could convince Owen and Beru to let Zelina and Luke stay as she worked to get the money to buy their own place. Maybe she could do better, start her own business.

No, she wouldn't be able to start her own business right away—she'd have to work her way up to that...but maybe someday.

What would be a good business on Tatooine aside from smuggling, mercenary work, and other criminal jobs?

Zelina visibly shuddered. She knew. She'd seen just how profitable such a business could be when she was a child.

A cantina. She needed to find a job at a cantina, and maybe, with a little luck and savings, and smart investments...she could eventually find herself the owner of one. That would provide a steady income that would give Luke a stable life, even if it dredged up terrible memories of her past.

And if she needed to, she'd invest in a second job, or maybe even some freelance work. There were things she could do on Tatooine that would put her other skills to good use.

So that was her goal. That was what she needed to do. And now that she had a direction on top of a purpose...

Zelina carefully pushed herself up on trembling arms, brushing off the sand on her arms before wiping away the tears. She shook the sand out of her clothes and hair, and slowly dragged herself back to the speeder, chanting her goals in her head as a mantra to keep her going and help her shove the trauma back to the back of her mind.

She'd let it out and sort of dealt with it. Now hopefully it wouldn't overflow at some point in the future when Luke was around.